“I just called the Yellow Rose. I wanted to talk to Pearl because she knows a little bit about everything going on in Crossroads. One of the waitresses answered. I gave her my number, asking Pearl to call me when she could, so we wait for the call.”
Gunner leaned forward and lowered his voice. “It makes almost no sense to assume that this was a revenge shooting. To our knowledge, Dad has no enemies. While I was in the airport waiting to board, I decided to check the robbery angle. All of Pete Brandt’s known associates are either still in prison, or deceased, like him. I also called the prison warden where Brandt was being held and asked about visitors he might have had. Turns out, he’s had no visitors for over five years, until just before he died. It was after the warden notified his next of kin that Brandt wasdying, and gave them permission for an end-of-life visit, so to speak.”
“Did anyone show?” Asher asked.
“Yes, his two sons, Everett and Freddie Brandt. The warden gave them thirty minutes. They were at his bedside the entire time until Brandt ended it on his own and sent them away. But that doesn’t have to mean anything. Family is always called when a prisoner is dying like that,” Gunner said.
Dylan was already lost. “I build houses. My puzzles involve plumbing and electrical issues, and supply issues, so you’re going to have to spell all this out for me, because I don’t think or speak cop like you two.”
“Sorry, brother,” Asher said. “It’s basically laying out all of the what-ifs, and then eliminating what doesn’t fit, or finding the connections. Right now, everything is a theory. We don’t have one solid piece of evidence. Maybe after we talk to Pearl, we’ll have a starting point.”
Gunner nodded. “Everything is a process of elimination, and being able to see through the bullshit in the statements we take.”
“Got it. I won’t be much help when it comes to all that, but I’ve got your backs, whatever is going down,” Dylan said.
Asher grinned. “We know that. Remember the positions we played in high school football?”
Gunner looked up and almost smiled. “Ash was the quarterback. Dylan was the center, always blocking the opponent, and me…a running back on offense, and the safety on defense.”
Dylan laughed. “Fastest little shit on the field I ever saw. Ran forty yards in under five seconds. They were scouting you for college football when you broke a bunch of hearts and went into law enforcement instead.”
Gunner shrugged. He had his reasons, most of which pointed to Brenda Kingston’s double life. He glanced up at the clock. “Visiting time again.”
“I’ll sit this out,” Dylan said. “You and Asher go in,” then went to a vending machine to get a can of pop as they left, and began going through email and took a phone call from Angie about work. A tile order for six houses got back-ordered, so he cancelled the order and told Angie to pick out something comparable and see if the company could put a rush on delivery. Then the brothers returned.
“Any change?” Dylan asked.
“No, and the doctor isn’t likely to make rounds before late. Some kind of surgical emergency. I told the nurse we were leaving for the evening but staying nearby. They’ll call if there’s a need,” Asher said.
Dylan repacked his laptop as they retrieved their luggage, then they all headed for the elevator.
Gunner led them to where he’d parked. They loaded their luggage and got into the SUV. Moments later, he drove out of the parking lot and headed down the street to the hotel.
* * *
Nora Borden was knee-deep in memories as she continued sorting through what was left of her parents’ belongings, and she wasn’t making much headway. The figurines that had meant so much to her mother were still in the etagere in the living room. Her dad’s pipe and a nearly empty tin of pipe tobacco were lying in an ornate ashtray, on a table next to the sofa. Every time she looked at it, it made her feel like he’d walk in at any moment, ready to shake in a little tobacco, tamp it down with his thumb, then add enough more to fill the bowl before lighting it up.
The “good dishes” were still in the china cabinet in thedining room, and the kitchen was full of everyday dishes, and all the pots and pans. The curtains were clean, but faded, and hung limply from the rods. She was torn between guilt and necessity, and knew she was going to grieve it, regardless of her final decision.
And now, after what had happened to Jacob, and guessing what Asher and his brothers were going through, she had this overwhelming need to reach out, but at the same time, didn’t want to intrude.
Finally, she gave it up for the day and made a quick trip to the Yellow Rose to pick up her to-go order. They’d be closing soon, and she didn’t want to cook. Cars in the parking lot were thinning out fast when she got out and ran inside and up to the register.
Darla was already there checking out a customer, so Nora got in line. About that time, Pearl came out of the kitchen carrying two bagged up to-go orders. When she saw Nora, she smiled.
“Good timing, sugar! This one is yours,” Pearl said, and set them down on the counter as Darla went to tend to her tables. “How’s it going at home?”
Nora shrugged. “Slow. Depressing.”
“I can only imagine,” Pearl said as Nora paid for her order.
Pearl went back to the kitchen, while Nora got in the car and drove home.
She transferred her food to a plate, made herself a drink, and carried it to the living room to eat, and as soon as she sat down, turned on the TV for the sound of voices.
She hated to eat alone.
* * *
